


who's gonna touch you [like me]

by onefootonego (startingXI)



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Collar, Communication, Dom/sub, F/F, Handcuffs, Humilation, Kink Negotiation, Modern AU, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Spanking, Strap-On, everyone is 18+, facesitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:25:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startingXI/pseuds/onefootonego
Summary: “i want you,” adora presses on “i want you to use me, to do whatever you want with me. you know what i like, what gets me off. i want you to make me yours.”“you want me to make you my bitch.” catra states, it’s more or less not a question.





	who's gonna touch you [like me]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [traceable](https://archiveofourown.org/users/traceable/gifts).



> written to and title taken from _shameless_ by _the weeknd_
> 
> i've done my very best to make sure i tagged all the kinks, so please read through and continue at your own risk. on the chance that i've missed any please let me know.

adora wishes she’d taken catra up on the offer of whiskey before they’d sat down on the couch. they’re sitting more spread out, but catra’s tail crosses the space between them and is curled around one of adora’s ankles lightly. it’s enough solid contact to keep adora from spinning out completely caught on the excitement of the coming conversation. excitement and nerves. nerves that swirl deep in her stomach, notching her heart rate up bit by bit. with forced calm adora sits on the couch, feeling catra’s eyes on her. 

catra is waiting for her to start. 

the realisation hits adora and she swallows down an upswelling of nerves. she unfurls her hands and flattens her palms along the tops of her thighs. the back of her neck feels hot and her mouth is suddenly impossibly dry. 

“we don’t have to – “ catra starts, her voice cutting through adora’s racing thoughts. 

“no,” she blurts, stopping catra’s sentence in her tracks “i want this. i want,” she pauses hard and forces herself to meet catra’s discerning gaze “i’m just, nervous.” she says “or,” she struggles for the right word “embarrassed.” she settles for even though it still feels wrong rolling off her tongue. 

“embarrassed about?” catra presses, the end of her tail moving lightly along adora’s ankle. 

“admitting what i want.” adora feels heat in the tips of her ears and out of the corner of her eye she sees catra bite her lip “admitting what i want you to do to me. it’s, it’s more than we’ve done before.” 

this is not news to catra, but seeing adora so visibly tense, it tugs on that protective instinct buried deep inside. catra lets out a long breath, “i’m not going to judge you adora.” she says simply “not for your kinks anyway.” she adds “for your love of pineapple on pizza, probably. but not what turns you on.” 

the comment about pizza pulls a laugh from adora and catra relaxes slightly at the sound. she wants more of that relaxing, yet she knows only adora can alleviate most of it by explaining the thoughts bouncing around inside her head. catra allows herself to wait once again, patience not being her strong suit, but it’s not adora’s either. the silence unspools between them, comfortable and unhurried. they have all night. 

all of the next day too. 

they have all the time for this conversation – and just when catra thinks adora is going to work herself into a human knot, 

she speaks. 

“i – “ she swallows hard “you remember how i talked about wanting something more,” she pauses “extended.” 

catra raises an eyebrow and smirks. 

adora catches on without missing a beat and rolls her eyes “not like that.” she sighs “we’ve got more than enough dicks in this apartment.” she continues, “like, not just a one-night session. more like, a weekend, or something like that.” 

more extended indeed. 

“okay,” catra says, nodding “you know i’m into that.” 

her confirmation blends with encouragement, a subtle press for adora to keep going. 

“like, total power control.” adora says “for me. to you.” she can’t quite look at catra as she says it “like all the time. having to do what you say. having you be mean to me.” 

catra bites back a pleased noise and asks “mean to you how?” she pushes, wanting to a glimpse into adora’s mind, wishing she could see what adora’s picturing. 

one of adora’s hands curls into the couch cushion before she speaks, the words coming more readily than they had before “like, not letting me wear clothes without your permission. not letting me go anywhere without asking. push me around, put me in my place. i want,” adora takes a breath and catra wonders if they’re close to the heart of it now, of what adora really wants from her “i want you to own me.” she says finally, and it takes an effort for her to meet catra’s gaze, the look in her eyes is a far cry from hesitation or fear. 

catra sees desire. 

she sees no sign of anxiety or nerves as if finally voicing what she wants has freed adora wholly to enjoy the truth of her own wants and needs. 

“i want you,” adora presses on “i want you to use me, to do whatever you want with me. you know what i like, what gets me off. i want you to make me yours.” 

“you want me to make you my bitch.” catra states, it’s more or less not a question. 

she knows what turns adora on, and she knows the depths of the heat between her legs, the ache pooling just at the mere idea of what adora is asking for. 

“please.” adora hisses, the single word escaping as both a whine and a moan. her eyes flutter shut for only a moment before she looks over at catra again “does that, are you –“ 

“yes.” catra says, cutting her off “i’m into that. you know i’m into you. i’m definitely into the idea you on your knees for a whole weekend.” catra’s mind is racing in the best of ways and she can see the effect her words are having on adora already. 

adora’s thighs pressing together and the flush that started at the tips of her ears is slowly spreading. there’s the rise and fall of her chest, the only sign of her increased breathing. there’s no denying adora’s turned on at the prospect and getting just what she asked for, and then some. as far as catra’s concerned she would be a liar if she didn’t admit as well just how much she wants to give adora what she’s asking for. 

“come here,” catra says, shifting her position. 

she adjusts so instead of perching on the arm of the chair, she’s leaning back against it. her left leg is planted on the floor, her right extended along the line of cushions. adora moves obediently to sit between catra’s spread legs, her back pressing against catra’s chest. catra brings her left leg up and hooks it around adora’s ankle, tugging it away from her other leg. one arm snakes around adora’s hips, playing with the waistline of her jeans. 

“are you wet?” catra asks, her other hand working the button on adora’s jeans free. 

adora nods quickly. 

catra t’sks quietly, leaning forward imperceptibly and taking the shell of adora’s ear between her teeth and biting it gently – a warning “you know better than that. or do i need to teach you how to speak to your betters?” 

adora moans and catra grins, it’s so, so easy to wind her up. 

“i’m sorry, captain,” adora says “you don’t have to teach me. i won’t forget again, captain.” 

catra moves to press a kiss into the soft space behind adora’s ear “make sure you don’t.” she says “you won’t like it if i have to correct you again.” 

adora shudders and her hips roll as she seeks out more contact. 

“here’s what i’m thinking,” catra offers, her hand dipping underneath adora’s jeans. she can feel the coarse, cropped hair between her fingers before they hit the slick of adora’s cunt “i’m going to edge you. and while i do that you’re going to me exactly how you want me to own you. you down for that?” 

“green.” adora whispers “bright green, captain.” 

“good.” catra says, pushing one finger inside adora’s cunt without warning just to hear, to feel, adora’s body react “what’s your safeword?” she murmurs. 

“red, captain.” adora replies “yours?” 

“horde.” comes catra’s reply as she starts fucking adora lazily “now tell me all about how you want me to own you.” 

adora moans, hips pressing into catra’s hand. 

catra smirks, feeling her own wet beginning to soak through. 

*

the evening comes and adora is the second one home. it had been parent-teacher meetings all night and while at adora’s previous school, parents were minimally invested in conversations with their childs gym teacher, the parents at eternia high were, 

a different breed. 

while adora had been expecting a night of being a glorified babysitter as parents dropped their kids off to play with basketballs or climb the bouldering wall, she was faced with a line of parents out the door. it had been three hours of constant conversations about how she was planning on structuring her lessons around the intensive practice sessions implemented by, it seemed, every team sport eternia had. it was exhausting, not to mention she was distracted by the promise of what was waiting for her at home. 

ever since the conversation with catra, that had ended with adora being fucked mercilessly into the couch, she had found herself in a constant state of want. not had thursday night taken an age to roll around, but catra had been relentless in her build-up. a steady stream of text messages had started as soon as catra came home. in the brief interlude between parents, adora was able to look at her phone and it seemed that each message was more explicit than the last. catra was sending photos. photos of the different implements she was getting ready – the leather strap, a ball gag, three different dildos, lube. then there were the texts themselves, catra all teasing, all taunt – fully aware that adora was unable to react, let alone respond. 

it made adora’s cycle home agonising. she could feel how wet she was already as she pressed against the bike seat. the motion gave her some sense of relief and adora knew that it would be the last pleasure she would be able to give herself without permission for the next two days. the thought sent equal bolts of trepidation and excitement coursing through her. 

part of adora could hardly believe catra had agreed to do this, yet the more she thought about it – and she had thought about it a lot - the more adora realised that of course, catra would be into a weekend of adora submitting to her. they’d been exploring their shared kinks long enough that embarking into something like this felt like a natural progression for them. adora knew that amongst the roiling emotions present in her stomach, never present was anything like real fear. sure there was the fear that catra wouldn’t let her come all weekend, but there was no fear of catra ignoring her limits and pushing adora beyond what she wants. that realistion was always comforting for adora, especially as she hopped off her bike and hiked it over one shoulder, preparing to carry it up the six flights to their apartment. 

it was habit to walk, but tonight especially adora appreciated the way it got her heart racing and the burn it brought to her legs. not to mention the exercise felt like an outlet for her excitement, for all the energy she’s had to contain and conceal all evening. there are no neighbours to get trapped into conversation with, for which adora is grateful because love glimmer as she does, she’s not sure she could handle a fifteen-minute conversation. any other day, hell yes, glimmer was one of the first friends she made after moving to the big city. adora had all the time in the world for her. 

just, 

not tonight. 

shoving her key into the lock, adora pushes the door open and is immediately caught on how while this is home,

it doesn’t feel like home. normally full of light and warmth, sometimes music or the smell of food cooking – this space is nothing like that tonight. the lights are low and catra must have turned the heating off when she got in because goosebumps pattern across adora’s forearm. 

“catra,” adora says carefully, aware that the pre-established rules are not yet in play “i’m home.” 

adora gets no response but as she pushes the door closed behind her, she eyes a not taped to the wall beside her bike rack. hanging her bike along the wall, adora turns and locks the bolt and chain across the front door before turning back to read what instructions catra’s left her. the note is written on scrap paper they keep on the kitchen counter, mostly a collection of torn and folded, outdated spreadsheets and redacted case notes from catra’s work. the handwriting is instantly familiar as catra’s scrawl and that soothes a tension adora hadn’t realised she’d picked up. 

_hey adora –_

_take your time. when you’re ready text me, then turn your phone off and put it in the coffee table drawer. kneel in the living room and wait. you know the rules._

_catra_

there’s a tiny heart next to catra’s name and adora can’t help but smile because adora knows the heart isn’t there because of catra’s affinity for doodling and being sappy. it’s there because catra knows the sight will make adora smile, but it will also remind her that this is just a game. just a game they’re playing that can be stopped at any time. 

adora knows these things, 

just like she knows she has no interest in stopping anything that’s about to happen. 

unclipping her helmet, adora hangs it off the handlebar of her bike and takes a steadying breath. she steps away from the foyer and into the living room. there’s no sign of catra here, everything is as perfectly untouched as it was when adora left this morning. the only light comes from above the stove. it proves to be minimally effective in doing much beyond deepening the shadows from the corners. adora can see no toys, no anything. 

she slides her bag off her back and places it onto one of the barstools at the kitchen island. normally she would go to the bedroom and shed the weight of the day, but the note says nothing about going anywhere but the living room. as such, adora shrugs out of her red waterproof jacket, noticing how its reflective stripes catch the light. she hangs it on the back of the chair before putting her keys into the side pocket of her bag. each action highlights further her shaking hands. adora’s heart is pounding and her mouth is dry. she wanders to the sink and fills a mug with tap water, taking small sips as she wonders about undressing further. 

she decides not to, figuring if catra wanted her naked she would have said as much in her note. 

tipping the rest of the water into the sink, adora replaces the mug on the drying rack and knows there’s only one thing left for her to do. walking back towards the living room she pulls out her phone from her pocket. she takes another steadying breath and sends a text to catra 

_adora to catra [20:14] – i’m ready, captain._

she presses send and exhilaration overcomes her for a moment. she’s stepping into an unknown she’s wanted to explore for months now. remembering catra’s instructions, adora tugs open the drawer set in the wooden coffee table and after turning off her phone, places it inside. she pushes the drawer shut and turn around. from the depths of the apartment, she can hear a chime from catra’s phone. adora, forcing out a breath sinks to her knees as she runs her hands down the material of her pants. she feels hot already, she feels overdressed and they haven’t even started.   
bowing her head, adora takes a moment to close her eyes and let the rest of her senses run the show. 

for a moment she hears nothing, just the rhythm of her own breathing interspaced with the silence. then, there’s the turning of handle, the sound of hinges moving against each other and the soft thunk of a door handle hitting the wall. adora narrows in on the sound, hearing familiar footsteps get louder and louder. 

adora wants to look up. she wants to look up and lay eyes on catra but that is not how this game is played.

eye contact is earned. 

adora forces herself to relax, uncurling her hands from their fists and letting them hang by her side. 

the footsteps get louder and louder until they’re gone entirely, stepping onto the living room rug. 

“i expected more from you.” is the first thing catra says, standing some distance from adora “surrender is so,” she pauses, searching for words “pathetic.” 

adora has to bite her lip, save letting out a moan she’s not allowed to voice. there’s a venom to her words that she reserves only for these moments where she’s intent on reducing adora. it’s a hint of the activities to come and it leaves adora breathless. 

“i mean,” catra continues “i always knew you were weak but,” there are soft footsteps against the rug and suddenly one of catra’s hands is tangling itself in adora’s ponytail. adora finds herself with no warning before her head is wrenched back and she’s forced to look up at catra for the first time. catra is familiarly radiant. there’s an energy she inhabits when she’s topping adora that infects her from head to toe. her hears are pricked and her tail is swaying dangerously “but surrender? you’re weaker than i thought.” catra lets go of adora’s ponytail, shoving her head back down with a rough motion. 

catra continues to circle adora “that’s why you’re here. because you’re weak. because you surrendered to me. you’re mine. that’s how this works, but you knew that. you knew what would happen if you laid down your precious sword. i own you.” catra is speaking from somewhere behind adora, and the next thing adora knows there’s a foot places in the middle of her back and she’s laid out by the force of catra’s shove.

the act pushes all the air from her lungs and adora barely catches herself before she slams into the floor harder than she would want. head turned to one side it’s nearly impossible not to see catra moving, catra kneeling down and her hand coming to the nape of adora’s neck. her fingers scratch lightly on the hair there “colour?” catra murmurs, her eyes suddenly soft, the acid in her voice gone. 

“green.” adora hums, soaking up this tender moment before catra blinks and the captain takes her place. 

the shift is immediate, catra’s shoulders moving back and the hand in adora’s hair tightens “here’s how this is going to work,” catra hisses “you’re going to strip. if you try anything at all i will lay out on your back and this night will get a whole lot worse for you.” 

“strip?” adora plays along, feigning her confusion “for what?” 

“this wasn’t a conversation. you didn’t have permission to speak.” catra says “that’s your only warning. next time i won’t be so kind. now strip, or i’ll do it for you.” 

the hand relaxes in adora’s hair and she slowly pushes herself up off the floor. keeping her head down she stands, hands coming to the hem of her shirt and tugging it off over her head. she can hear catra’s hiss of approval as adora’s the ladder of abs are exposed to the cool room. adora’s fingers come to her sports bra and she pauses, hesitant. 

“that too.” catra bites “everything goes. you won’t have to worry about clothes. my property doesn’t get such a privilege.” 

“property?” adora asks, looking up sharply at catra. 

the reaction is instantaneous, cara storms forward, one hand coming to adora’s throat, the other curling into the material of her bra and tearing it with one, harsh tug “what the fuck did i say about speaking?” catra hisses, but it’s not a question meant to be answered, so tight is her grip around adora’s throat “you’re property. my property. you were given to me to do with as i please because you surrendered yourself to save your friends.” there disgust in catra’s voice “you may have thought you were being noble, but there’s going to be nothing noble about being my whore.” 

the hand at adora’s throat lets go and in her gasp for air, adora finds catra spinning her arm, grabbing one arm and twisting it painfully behind her back. that, coupled with the hand that twists itself in adora’s hair puts her in a position unable to do anything but go where catra wants her to. which in this case, is being pressed face first into the living room wall. the wall is cool against adora’s nipples and she shivers, attempting to shimmy away from the contact but finds herself even more vigorously shoved into the wall. her arm is twisted tighter and adora feels tears of pain prick at her eyes. she gives up resistance and goes slack against the wall. 

“this doesn’t have to be difficult.” catra says, her voice saccharine sweet “you don’t have to keep fighting me. just accept it, accept that you’re finally where you’re meant to be. serving me.” 

adora bites her lip hard to swallow another moan, how catra is this good at dirty talk is beyond her comprehension at this particular moment in time. 

“put your hands against the wall and don’t fucking move them.” catra says, releasing adora’s wrist. 

the relief is instant and adora shakes out her arm for only a moment before complying with catra’s instructions. she presses the flat of her palms against the wall, level with her thighs. a harsh slap to her back is her first indication that catra wants more “higher. above your head.” catra says “if i have to spell everything out for you, you’re not going to last long.” 

adora swallows hard and she slides her hands along the wall, bringing them above her head. 

“don’t move them.” catra orders, her hands coming to adora’s hips and tugging them away from the wall. 

positioned appropriately adora feels catra’s nails dragging along the soft skin of her stomach. it’s a combination of pleasure and pain that shoots directly to her already soaking cunt. she feels catra’s fingers come to the button of her pants and they’re ripped open, the violence of the action reminding adora of her place. she feels catra’s fingers hook around her underwear and in one motion she tugs both pants and underwear down, letting them pool at adora’s feet. 

“there,” catra says, one foot knocking at adora’s ankles. 

it’s a clear indication for adora to spread her legs. 

adora does.

she spreads her legs and feel the heat of her cunt even more vividly in the contrast with the cool, dark air of the living room. 

“mine.” catra hisses “i’m going to ruin you,” she promises. 

adora moans and she can’t stop it from bubbling up her throat and filling the silence after catra’s promise. expecting punishment, adora waits for some flash of violence, but instead, all she hears is a low, amused laugh “who knew you’d like being a whore this much.” catra says “if only your friends knew. do you think they’d be proud of your surrender if they knew how much you were enjoying this?” 

there’s a pause after catra’s finished, and adora fights to bite back a response. she knows it will do her no good to insist that she’s not enjoying this, not when she can feel her own slick between her thighs. 

“i’ve got you a gift.” catra says and there’s the sound of her procuring an item that jangles “a little something to remind you of your place.” 

adora realises it’s a collar as soon as the cool metal of the chain touches her neck. she also processes that this is a new collar, not made of supple leather like some of her other ones. no. this one feels to be made of chain links. it’s cool and tight against her throat, not enough to obstruct her breathing, but more than enough to remind adora of its presence. there’s a second sound, something unfurling and one of catra’s fingers hooks into the d-ring at the front of the collar and tugs it, spinning adora around. 

like this, with her back against the wall adora scrambles to replace her hands in position. she also can’t help but steal a glance at catra, soaking in her choice of maroon skinny jeans ripped at the knees and button-up shirt rolled above her elbows. the top button of said shirt is undone, exposing a tuft of fur that adora knows trails down across catra’s stomach. 

she looks good. 

adora licks her lip and catches sight of what catra is attaching to her collar, 

a leash. 

a leash that’s wound around her hand. 

once connected, there’s a harsh tug and catra’s biting “all fours. now. from now on, this is how you get around. you crawl like the bitch you are.” 

adora bites her lip and complies slowly, feeling her knees pop as she sinks down. the carpet is rough underneath her knees and eats uncomfortably at the heels of her hand

“what was that?” catra presses into adora’s silence, tugging once at the leash. 

adora swallows hard “yes captain.” her voice is thin, caught on want and her own unravelling headspace “i understand captain.” 

“better.” catra nods, tugging once at the leash and moving towards the back of the apartment. 

adora hurries to keep up, feeling the collar press against her throat uncomfortably as catra purposefully moves faster than adora can crawl. the hardwood floor of the hall is even more uncomfortable against adora’s knees and she’s thankful for the carpet of their bedroom floor. crawling into the room she can see that it is here catra has made the most preparations. there’s the shadow of toys lining the top of the dresser, the under-bed restraints are out and untangled. what catches adora’s eye however is at the foot of the bed, on the floor. 

it looks like an oversized dog bed. plush, sure, but a dog bed all the same. adora doesn’t care that she surrendered, she deserves more than that, surely. 

catra’s low laugh breaks through adora’s thoughts and she realises catra has caught her staring “if you’re good,” catra says “i may even let you sleep on it.” she nods towards the bed. 

adora swallows hard “permission to ask a question, captain?” 

“go ahead.” 

“where would i sleep if i’m bad?” adora asks, unsure if she wants to know the answer. 

“oh,” catra says, stepping forward and jerking the leash “i have no problems with keeping you chained in the bathtub all night.” 

“fuck.” adora bites back, able to stop it from slipping out as she follows obediently on the lead. 

“look at me.” catra commands and she waits until adora settles on her knees and looks up at her “do you know what the tradition is for new property?” 

adora swallows hard “no captain.”

“would you like the hazard a guess?” 

“i assume it’s not, let them have their freedom.” adora posits. 

catra backhands her from nowhere. the blow sends an explosion of pain across adora’s cheek “i know it’s hard for you to accept your place,” catra says while adora’s cheek smarts “but the sooner you stop being such a smart-ass the less painful this will get for you. sort of.” 

the ‘sort of’ has adora shifting on her knees, uncomfortably wet. 

“how about i tell you what we do?” catra offers “i can clue you into what you’re about to experience.” her voice is low and dangerous, the leash giving adora mere inches of freedom. catra hangs on to the silence, letting it draw out as she toys with one of adora’s nipples“we fuck them.” catra says, pinching adora’s nipple sharply, drawing a pained gasp “in all the ways we want to. it’s our right, as the victors, to put our property in their place. some people here are nice about it. all soft and within their moral bounds. me though? i’ve been waiting for a chance to put a traitor back in her place.” catra releases adora’s nipple “put your hands behind your back.” she says, letting go of the leash for a moment, letting it trail down between adora’s legs. 

adora swallows hard and she feels like this is a crossroads, a choice of how deep into this scene she wants to fall. catra has half-turned away, grabbing something already laid out on the bed. adora knows she has less than a second to decide and – 

she runs. 

adora scrambles to her feet and takes off out the bedroom door. it’s futile, she knows. catra is faster and far more agile than her, but surrender and submission are two different things in adora’s mind. she surrendered, sure and that was to protect her friends. but this? but laying out and letting catra do as she pleases, adora can’t. 

except the leash is trailing behind her and catra, quick as she is, grabs at it one-handed. she yanks back, hard and adora finds herself stumbling backwards, crashing to the ground. catra pounces straddling adora at once, the leash wrapped all the way around her hand, damn near strangling adora “i was so hoping you’d try and run.” catra hisses, her weight settled across adora’s hips “it’s so you to try and escape this. but it’s inevitable. you’ll see that soon.” 

one hand still throttling adora gently, catra reaches down and twists a nipple just to watch adora bite back the pain “i’m going to have to punish you for this,” she says “you know that right?” 

“fuck you.” adora gasps.

catra smirks and pushes two fingers into adora’s mouth as she finishes speaking. adora’s eyes go wide and for half a moment catra expects adora to try and bite her. instead, adora just goes very still as catra explores her mouth “there you go.” catra says “just let this happen.” she encourages, her tone as if she was speaking to some small animal. 

adora does as bid, so aware of the hand around her throat alternating between letting her gulp greedily for air and pressing in just the right places to make her head spin. that touch, combined with the domination of her mouth, it leaves adora breathless. it’s a feeling that is furthered when catra presses two fingers onto adora’s tongue, pushing them deeper. adora bucks and gags but she can’t escape her position. she’s forced to let catra push her fingers to the back of adora’s throat, even as her eyes water and she chokes and coughs around them. 

finally, after what feels like an eternity and tears pricking adora’s eyes, catra pulls her fingers out. they’re wet with adora’s spit and catra doesn’t hesitate before wiping them on adora’s reddened cheek. standing, catra tugs on the leash, giving adora no time to recover “come on,” she says “things are going to get so much worse for you.” 

adora feels caught now, her best escape attempt foiled and the leash firmly wrapped around catra’s hand. she follows back down the hall, crawling obediently. she knows whatever catra has planned next, the captain is excited for. it was clear as day in catra’s voice is clear the way she walks lightly down the hall, dragging adora with her. 

this time catra closes and locks the bedroom door behind her, the leash never leaving her grip “get up on the bed.” catra commands, tugging adora up. 

it’s awkward to do, but the bed feels immeasurably better underneath adora as she crawls up into the middle. she keeps her gaze planted down, waiting for instruction. 

“on your back.” catra hums and adora sees in her hand, a ball gag. 

it’s not the biggest in their collection, but it certainly won’t be comfortable. she feels the bed dip as catra climbs up, once again straddling adora’s hips, the leash wrapped around one hand and her knees pressing painfully into adora’s arms. the ball gag gets placed next to adora’s head as catra leans down, hand sliding up adora’s neck and cupping her jaw. there’s a moment of tenderness here, a gentle kiss and a soft “how are you?” 

the question is almost too much for adora to answer, but she nods, leaning into the kiss and murmuring “green. really green.” 

“good,” catra hums, kissing her for a moment more, before reaching once again for the ballgag and adora knows it’s no longer her girlfriend straddling her, but the captain “i’m going to hurt you.” catra tells her “but because you can’t be trusted to stay put, before i do that, i’m going to tie you to the bed.” 

she leans forward, above adora, her knees digging into adora’s forearms, and ties off the leash to headboard. it renders adora effectively trapped. there’s no way she would be able to undo the knot or slip out of her collar before catra pinned her down once again. the next thing catra grabs is the ballgag, she holds it above adora’s head, letting her get a good view “open up.” she says. 

adora does not fight her, she opens her mouth obediently. 

catra pushes the ballgag in and adora feels her mouth stretch around it. she feels catra secure it into place with practised easy “it suits you.” catra smirks. 

adora does her best to glower, but she naked and tied to catra’s bed so she feels that some of the effect is lost. 

shifting onto one side, catra grabs one of adora’s wrists and tugs it above her head. slipping it into the restraint is easy enough, as is securing her arm into position. catra does the same to her other arm without speaking. 

slipping off the bed gracefully, adora knows what comes next. she watches, drool already pooling in her mouth, as catra tugs her legs apart. of the times adora has been tied to their bed like this before, usually, catra gives her some wiggle room within the confines of her teathers. today is not like that. today adora finds her legs stretched and her ankles tied apart with virtually no room to shift or move or escape what catra is planning to do next. 

 

“what’s your signal?” catra asks, satisfied that adora is tied down properly. 

adora snaps her fingers three times in a row. 

“again.” catra pushes. 

adora complies. 

satisfied, catra nods and turns away. 

spread eagle like this, adora feels as exposed as she’s ever been. she watches catra move away from the bed and towards the dresser, where an array of toys are placed, caught in shadows and indistinguishable beyond vague shapes. adora strains her neck trying to track what catra grabs, but it’s useless. so adora rests her head back and just listens as catra walks back towards her. 

“i think,” catra says, climbing back onto the bed “these will really suit you.” 

she’s holding up a pair of nipple clamps, the harshest kind they own, connected by a chain. a chain that adora is sure catra will have no problem tugging to keep her in line. the thought makes her whimper. 

“i know,” catra mocks at the sound “but you should have thought about the consequences before you decided to play the noble hero and surrender. this is what you get. this is what you’re going to get.” she says “whenever i say so.” 

catra bends down, her tail twitching in anticipation and wraps her mouth around one of adora’s nipples, sucking and biting at it, as if it wasn’t hard enough around. she bites, bites hard enough to draw another whimper from adora’s throat before soothing with her tongue. this pattern goes on for long, long seconds before catra sits up and brings the teeth of the clamp towards the already sore nipple. it’s impossible for adora’s breath not to catch in her chest as catra positions the clamp where she wants and then lets go, allowing the teeth bit into the sensitive skin. 

adora’s back arches and she whimpers louder now. 

“what’s that,” catra says, reaching for a small wheel on the side of the clamp “you want it tighter? if you say so.” she turns the wheel a half measure and stares adora down into silence “better.” catra says “you should be thanking me for giving you such a thoughtful gift.” 

adora wants to roll her eyes, but catra is bending down, taking her other nipple into her mouth. she’s eyeing adora expectantly, sucking for a moment before biting, cocking an eyebrow. she holds the pressure until adora forces out a garbled noise that is her best approximation to 

_“thank you.”_

catra soothes the bite with her tongue and falls into the same pattern as she did before, working adora up until catra deems her ready for the second clamp. impossibly, it hurts more than the first and it takes everything in adora not to arch her back and try to escape the pain. what she can’t contain is the muted whimper, but catra seems to be able to tell that adora can’t hold it back. so instead she lets one clawed finger trail along the swell of adora’s breast and down until it catches on the chain. adora’s eyes go wide as catra increases the tension on the chain, she moans and whimpers and arches her back as if she can escape the pain that way. 

it’s futile, they both know, but catra humours adora for long moments until she drops the chain. 

adora’s head tips back and she’s panting in short, uneven breaths. 

catra’s fingers continue working their way down adora’s stomach until they trail through the rough patch of hair and into the wet of adora’s cunt. 

“fuck,” catra hisses “you’re such a whore. you’re so wet from this.” 

adora is in no position to deny the truth. 

“you like this, don’t you?” catra asserts, punctuating her sentence with a slap directly to adora’s cunt. it makes her jump, and that action reminds her how restrained she is. the thought carries adora away from the moment, and she’s only dragged back to the present when catra spanks her cunt again, harder now “don’t you?” she repeats. 

adora nods her head and again, with garbled english says 

_“yes, captain.”_

catra’s eyes are alight and adora is certain that catra is just as wet as she is. 

“it’s time for your punishment.” catra says and her voice is predatory, glee spreading from her smile to her eyes, to the tips of her ears “and because it’s your first time, i’ll tell you what’s going to happen.” she pauses, more for effect than anything else “i’m going to spank you.” adora swallows hard “i’ll warm you up first, but by the end you’ll regret ever running anywhere.” she lets her words sink in “then,” she says “i’m going to fuck you. because it’s going to hurt you and turn me on. i’m going to finish by riding your face.” 

adora moans, nodding. she can’t communicate how onboard she is with all of that, even if it breaks character. catra sees and laughs, trailing two fingers through catra’s cunt before bringing them up so adora can see her own slick “and if you’re really good,” catra says “maybe you won’t end up chained in the bath tonight.”

adora moans, lost on her own want, her own desire, all of which are stoked by catra’s words, her promises. 

“now,” catra continues “if i take the gag out will you count out your punishment like a good little bitch?” 

adora nods early. 

“if you don’t,” catra warns “i have far less comfortable options.” 

oh does adora know that? her mind flashes to the ring gag, to the dick gag that trips her gag reflex unless she stays perfectly still. she speaks through nearly illegible words 

_“i promise.”_ she pleads _“i’ll be good.”_

catra smirks and reaches forward, using two hands to undo the buckle and free the gag. adora works her jaw as soon as it’s free, she knows there’s a strong chance she will feel the ache from the gag into tomorrow, and that’s without catra putting her into another one tonight. 

“thank you captian.” adora says. 

catra all but purrs “you’re learning.” she approves. 

adora says nothing, she just waits. 

“i’ll tell you when you need to start counting.” is the only warning catra gives before her hand connects with adoras cunt. 

the pain is immediate, although not as severe as it will be getting, and adora shifts. for the first time, she’s grateful for the strictness of her binds. it means that escaping position is nearly impossible. she’s forced to present her cunt time and time again as catra warms up her with a series of blows ranging in severity. adora knows catra’s purpose for the warm-up is two-fold – to allow adora the chance to get used to the pain, but also, to build the anticipation. 

“you can start counting with the next one.” catra says “if you lose track, we’ll start again. do you understand?” 

“i understand, captain.” adora says, her voice tight with anticipation. 

“good.” catra hums, settling into position. 

adora tries to relax, but finds it impossible weighed down with the knowledge of what’s com – 

the first spank hits her hard and adora nearly screams, straining against her bonds. 

that hurt. 

“fine,” catra says “we’ll start again.” 

“i’m sorry,” adora gasps “i’m sorry. i’m sorry. one.” 

“too late.” catra t’sks, raising her hand and bringing it down again. 

adora bites her lip so hard she thinks she draws blood, forcing out a “one.” with a pant. 

“was that so hard?” catra taunts before delivering the second and third slaps in rapid succession. 

the act gives adora no room to respond, and leaves her breathing hard through her nose as she tries to find the composure to count out loud “two,” she says, her voice wavering “and three.” she adds. 

adora knows how good catra is at reducing her to tears in a spanking, but this seems to be happening in record time. she can feel the heat in her eyes, can hear her own breathing reduced to sharp pants and is sure she’s red-faced. catra seems to pay this no mind, waiting a full thirty seconds before delivering the fourth blow. 

at the contact adora all but cries out the number, her voice wet with emotion “four,” she pants again “four. i’m sorry. i’m sorry for trying to escape.” 

“i bet you are.” catra agrees, one hand moving up and tugging at the chain connecting the clamps at the same time as she spanks adora again. 

this pushes adora over the edge and she feels the tears streaming down her temples “five!” she shouts “i’m sorry. captain please, i’m sorry.” 

“i don’t believe you.” catra says, “ i think you’re only saying that because this hurts.” 

“i’m not.” adora promises “i’m not just-“ her sentence is cut off with a succession of three spanks to her cunt and it leaves adora sobbing and struggling to count. she’s breathing hard and there are tears streaming down her face now as she forces “sixseveneight.” out all at once “i’m sorry.” she adds as if that will stop catra from continuing on. 

“what are you sorry for?” catra presses, giving adora a moment to breathing, her grip white knuckle around her bonds. 

“for escaping.” adora gasps, trying to control her breathing. 

catra shakes her head and adora sees her hand being drawn back again, clearly, her answer was the wrong one. 

“for,” adora tries to add quickly but it’s too late. 

her cunt is red and raw, but catra is relentless with her strike. 

“nine.” adora cries “i’m sorry for,” she struggles to find the words through her tears “i’m sorry for surrendering,” she shouts, watching catra raise her hand once again. 

“what was that?” catra eyes her. 

“i’m sorry for surrendering.” adora sobs. 

“better.” catra hums, punctuating the sentence with her tenth and final slap. 

adora cries out, straining against the bonds more than she has ever before. she gasps out a “ten!” through tears, but she’s sobbing full out now, the pain in her cunt like a wildfire out of control “no more,” she begs “no more.” there must be something to her voice, something real that catches catra’s attention, because she nods. 

she nods and adora watches her move up the bed so that she can use the pad of her thumb to wipe adora’s tears “no more.” catra agrees. 

“thank you, captain.” adora exhales, turning her head into catra’s chest, needing this moment. 

catra gives it to her. one of catra’s hands comes to adora’s hair and works the ponytail free, as adora sniffles and cries quietly into catra’s button up. long seconds bleed into minutes until finally, catra rolls away “you took that well.” she acknowledges “that’s probably the hardest i’ve ever spanked you.” 

adora nods, sniffling “it felt like it.” she murmurs, hazarding a guess that in this moment the formal notation is not required. 

“do you want to keep going?” catra asks. 

adora takes a deep breath and nods, looking up at catra “i do.” she says “i just, i needed this.” 

catra hums and nods “that’s okay.” she says, reaching behind her and procuring a bottle of blue gatorade “drink some.” she encourages. 

adora nods, opening her mouth and letting catra pour some out in measured sips. the liquid is cool on her raw throat and she feels better for having had a few mouthfuls. she watches catra take long sips too and then recap the bottle and replace it on the bedside table. 

“ready?” catra asks, bending down a kissing adora one more time. 

adora nods “i’m ready, captain.” she says. 

the switch flicks and catra’s posture straightens “i’m still not done with you.” she promises darkly, sliding off the bed and undoing the buttons of her shirt. it’s a show for adora, forced to watch but unable to touch as catra strips down slowly. first shedding her shirt and then pants and underwear. the sight leaves adora even more breathless. catra has always been gorgeous, but now, radiating in the power of her own dominance and the depths of adora’s submission, she seems to glow. adora watches as catra reaches for something she had set down at the far end of the bed. 

the strap on. 

adora watches with excited trepidation as catra slinks off the bed and makes a show of slipping into the harness. she is oh so aware of her still throbbing cunt, and the dick catra has chosen is not exactly small. it’s on the girthier end of their collection, deep purple in colour and ribbed. watching catra wrap her fist around it, pumping it slowly, covering it with lube, it leaves adora both wanting more and keenly aware of the pain-pleasure threshold she will soon be straddling. 

“i’ve been waiting a long time for this.” catra leers, climbing back on the bed and settling between adora’s legs. adora can feel the tip of catra’s dick press against her cunt and it makes her hiss and arch her back away from the contact “you’re so wet,” catra continues, her smirk obvious even in her words “such a whore for me, for this, aren’t you.” 

catra takes a hand and positions her dick with adora’s cunt. 

adora swallows hard. 

“i asked you a question.” catra growls. 

adora tries to find her voice, she forces out a “yes, captain.” 

catra shakes her head, bracing on one hand and reaching for the chain between adora’s breasts with the other “yes, what?” she asks, pulling on the chain slowly, increasing the tension. 

adora doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to admit what catra is pulling forth from her, but it’s impossible not to. her pain threshold only goes so far, and catra’s ingenuity goes further. 

“yes, i’m a – a whore for you.” adora admits, finally. 

“yesss.” catra hisses, not releasing the tension on the clamps, but instead starting the slow thrust of her hips, “say it again,” she commands. 

adora swallows hard, caught on the sensation of being stretched, on catra’s dick pushing into her “fuck.” she whimpers “fuck, captain. i’m a whore. i’m your whore.” she gasps, even though she’s taken the length of catra’s dick before, this time it somehow feels bigger. 

not in a way she can’t handle, but rather in a way that adora wasn’t expecting. perhaps it’s the sensitivity to her cunt after catra set it alight with her hand. 

it seems to take an age before adora feels the press of catra’s hips against her own. 

“fuck.” adora pants “fuck. fuck.” she says, tipping her head back. 

“colour?” catra presses. 

“green.” adora nods “keep going, please, captain.” 

catra obliges. 

she rocks back, pulling the dick out before thrusting her hips forward and slamming back into adora. catra makes it look easy, makes fucking adora look effortless. for adora, it feels, unlike any other time catra has fucked her. there’s something in pain from her battered cunt sparked with every movement from catra. there’s something too about catra’s confidence, the way she wields her dick, knowing that adora will take its full length over and over and over again. 

catra knows all of adora’s tells, knows exactly how sensitive she is and where. she knows the tip of adora’s head that means she’s getting close to coming. she knows the rock of adora’s hips against her bonds that mean adora wants more than she knows she can ask for. 

adora’s lost in the moment of it all. there’s pleasure and pain ripping through her in equal measures. she wants, 

she wants – 

“captain,” she pants “captain please.” 

catra laughs. she outright laughs. 

“not a chance.” she says “don’t ask me again.” 

adora’s eyes snap open and she sees the smirk on catra’s face, she can see how serious she is. 

“captain.” adora gasps, both a plea and a question in the same breath. 

“no.” catra grunt, tugging the chains hard, making adora yelp “it’s not happening. you’re not here to come. that’s not the point.” she’s breathless now “all that matters to you, is keeping me happy. do you understand?” 

adora realises now how serious catra is. 

“i understand.” she whines “i understand captain,” she adds as catra admonishes her with a harsh tug on the chain. 

with permission denied, adora is forced to ride out her building orgasm knowing there is no chance in hell that she’s going to be allowed to come. for some reason, the thought turns her on all the more. she’s rolling her hips to meet every thrust from catra, her hands are curled around the binds keeping her in place. adora can feel her own reactions building, her own desire growing and growing. surely, catra will change her mind. surely adora will be allowed to come. surely – 

catra pulls all the way out, gasping and tugging at the harness of her strap on.

adora is left only able to watch catra slip out of the harness and then climb up the bed “the only thing that matter,” catra grunts “is keeping me happy.” she says, one hand curling in adora’s hair “do you understand?” she asks, her thighs bracketing adora’s head, her cunt inches from adora’s mouth. 

“yes captain,” adora breathes and she can tell when her breathe hits catra’s soaking cunt because the hand in her hair tightens and catra’s whole body shivers. 

catra lowers her cunt to adora’s mouth, and adora allows herself to be surrounded by the moment. catra is soaking wet, more than adora thought possible. there is slick down her thighs that press against adora’s cheeks and the hand in adora’s hair is sturdy and unrelenting. adora swipes her tongue along catra’s cunt, tasting her, seeking out her clit. 

when adora finds catra’s clit, catra’s whole body reacts. her hips begin to cant across adora’s face and on some level adora revels in allowing herself to be used like this. to become a vessel for catra’s pleasure. blood pounding in her ears, adora devotes herself to the task. she uses her mouth in all the ways she knows drive catra wild, she uses every trick and doesn’t hold back. eventually,, however, it becomes impossible to keep up with catra’s own actions and adora goes along for the ride. she knows catra is close, can tell by the shudder of catra’s hips and the grip in adora’s hair. she can tell by the panting, whining, purring sounds that escape catra now that she’s close enough to her own release to not give a fuck how she sounds. 

adora find herself blissed out when catra comes when she feels the finally shudder and roll of catra’s hips before they slow, grinding against adora’s face. adora is not wholly lost to her own throbbing need, aware that it will go to untended tonight, but for half a second, when catra comes, adora finds herself chasing inexplicable emotions. she feels dirty in the best way, she feels used and wanted in the same breaths. it’s impossible to explain to herself beyond that. 

so adora stops trying. 

she pants in long breaths when catra rolls off her face. 

“maybe you’ll earn your keep after all.” catra says, and adora moans, watching as catra’s fingers come to the first of the clamps “brace yourself.” is all the warning she gives adora before undoing it. 

the rush of blood, the pain is immense and adora cries out. 

catra, unsympathetic, undoes the second clamp with no warning at all. she rolls the sore bud between her fingers, watching the way adora gasps and writhes in pain “not a fan?” she taunts before pulling her hand away entirely, letting the clamps drop the floor “that’s okay.” she says “you’ve certainly for your uses.” she adds. 

adora moans. 

“here’s what’s going to happen,” catra says “you’re going to wait here like a good bitch while i get some snacks. when i get back, i’m going to untie you, but you’re not to touch yourself. you’re going to kneel at the side of the bed while i eat and maybe you’ll have earned a snack yourself. understand?” 

“i understand captain.” adora promises. 

“good.” catra says, rolling away from adora and slinking off the bed. 

she stands, gathering a few of the toys strewn around and taking them into the bathroom. adora can hear them being dumped in the sink to be dealt with later, and she can hear catra going to the bathroom. when she reemerges, catra has tugged a long sleeve shirt of adora’s on over herself before wandering towards the door “hang tight.” catra smirks. 

as if adora can go anywhere. 

alone in the room, adora is left with her thoughts and her own want. 

she’s soaked, the sheets under her are soaked and she can’t imagine having to spend the night this turned on. yet on some level this is exactly what she asked for. she wanted catra mean, she wanted to be used, she wanted to be catra's bitch. 

here she is. 

getting exactly what she wants. 

somewhere in the apartment, adora hears a tap running. there’s the open and closing of a fridge, a cupboard and a drawer. tracking the movements gives adora something to focus on other than her own need for an orgasm and it’s a welcome distraction. as is catra’s eventual return. she’s carrying a bottle of water wedged between her arm and her side, a plate with toast and some strawberries cut up. it looks enough for two, but adora has also seen catra eat an entire deep dish pizza on her own, so she doesn’t hold her breath that catra plans on sharing. 

the food is set down on the bedside table and catra reaches for the first bind “you don’t move.” she warns “not even a little.” 

“yes, captain.” adora says, preparing to keep stock still as catra frees her one limb at a time. the last to be undone is the leash. catra must be, on some level, sure that adora won’t try and escape again. still spread on the bed, adora watches as catra snaps her fingers and points to the floor “kneel.” she says “hands behind your back.” 

adora moves slowly, her wrists indented by the rope from the strain she placed on them. her joints ache and her cunt still feels battered, but she does as she’s told. she resists the urge to wipe her face, having not been given permission to do that either. she drops to her knees, letting her wrists come behind her back. kneeling here, at catra’s feet, adora feels a little more grounded, a little less flung out to space than she did on the bed. the floor is solid beneath her, as is catra’s hand in her hair. she savours a moment of gentle touch before the familiar click of handcuffs catches adoras attention. 

she stills, keeping her wrists where they are as catra bends down, locking adoras wrists together. 

“so you don’t get any ideas.” catra explains. 

adora doesn’t say anything. instead, she watches catra climb onto the bed. catra settles herself there, sitting back against two pillows, and taking a long pull from the water bottle she brought in. reaching for the plate she sets it down next to her, picking at strawberry slice before turning on the tv. it comes to life with the netflix they were last watching still on pause. catra presses play and adora finds herself burning with the embarrassment of being left like this, catra’s hand occasionally coming to play in her hair, but otherwise being forced to wait. 

soon enough though, catra plucks a strawberry and brings it to adora’s lips “open.” she says, and adora obeys “go ahead.” catra nods, allowing adora the permission to eat it. 

she does this piece by piece, feeding adora strawberries and torn bits of buttered toast. adora wishes she was more ashamed by it, by being on her knees with her hands cuffed behind her back, being handfed while her captain watches some new food documentary. except adora isn’t. she leans into catra’s touch when it comes and eats when she’s told. she drinks greedily from the gatorade bottle when offered and she waits. she waits for her next command from her captain, 

whatever that may be. 

**

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for traceable - she gave me a collection of kinks to work with and this is the end result.


End file.
